I remember spending those first two weeks locked up in isolation trying to put all the pieces together from that dreadful night on the town. Things were very sketchy and I knew that I had done it good this time. At one point I even found myself turning to God in the hopes that things would be ok. Isn’t it funny how we do that? Especially when we call ourselves non believers in God while out in public yet behind closed doors as soon as something doesn’t go our way, we find ourselves praying to him to save us.
It’s also funny how so many non Christians will call a person who proclaims themselves a Christian a hypocrite as soon as we let a cuss word fly, or do something not Bible worthy. I mean out on the street I would brag about being a General in Satan’s Army and the minute I got caught, I was praying to God to help me. I would say that would be a better definition of a hypocrite. But anyhow that’s a story for another day.
After the first couple of weeks they moved me to Juvenile Detention awaiting a trial date. It took around four months till we finally got through the whole process and sentenced. I remember being scared to death while I was in jail, however it didn’t take long once they moved me to the general population over in Juvee Hall that I would start to quickly forget the severity of my charges.
Matter of fact in there I was at the top of the food chain. It’s rare that anyone comes through that system with the types of charges I was facing and I even knew a few of the kids there. That’s another thing I’ve found while doing time in different institutions. It starts to become a way of life for people. I couldn’t tell you how many guys I knew that found themselves in trouble just days before their scheduled release and bam, they get more time tacked on. Then the other scenario is they get out and don’t know how to support themselves on the streets so they get busted just to have a place to live. It is a true shame and certainly not the right road for anyone to travel.
While in detention I pushed the limits. I went from being scared and concerned about the crimes I committed right back to the idiot I was while on the streets. I had my then girlfriend bake pot brownies for me and bring them in at a visitation. I would have my friends come by late at night and blow pot smoke through the screen in my window to get high. I was even plotting an escape with another kid who was there on burglary charges. Before we could make an attempt I would get sentenced and be on my way to a court appointed drug and alcohol rehabilitation center a county away.
To this day it still seems like a dream. I was so wasted that night that I didn’t remember a lot of the facts. I had no idea that we had actually shot a person. We were shooting at headlights and we took off. The car we did shoot at while moving turned and drove in the other direction so I figured they were ok. In my trial there was a judge, a prosecutor, several police officers that testified against me and the reports from the tests they ran on the shell casings in my car that matched the bullet that struck the man in the chest. Till this day I have never met any of the victims and I don’t have a clue how I may have affected their lives.
I had been the lucky one I guess. No one died thankfully and I was under age and was able to convince them that I would get cleaned up and change my ways if they gave me the opportunity. So off I went, I said good bye to my family as they dropped me off at the center. I believe they gave me a few days to gather the belongings I needed for the year long stay in the program. The games were about to begin as I embarked on this new learning opportunity, not to get clean, but to learn how to better work the system. It would be a year of ups and downs but certainly not a year for getting better.